Hepacor
by JMK758
Summary: In Season Two Abby and Tim are very good friends with a long and frequently steamy history that eventually cooled. But one night, in the Forensics lab, things get dicey. The usual legal disclaimers and a caveat: Rated M or NCis-21. Adult theme with consensual sex.


In Season Two Abby and Tim are very good friends with a long and frequently steamy history that eventually cooled. But one night, in the Forensics lab, things get dicey.  
The usual legal disclaimers and a caveat: Rated M or NCis-21.  
Adult theme with con_sensual_ sex.

Hepacor  
by JMK758

Tim McGee walks into the Forensics Lab at 2140, carrying a plastic tub of evidence but looking forward to finally finishing this Friday day and going home. Gibbs is gone, so are most of the Agents in the building, and the weekend crew is little more than bare minimum to keep the Agency coasting on impulse. He had called to confirm Abby was in - she never seems to tire - but after a near double shift all he wants to do is drop off evidence for eventual examination and leave. Abby doesn't do weekends, not unless Gibbs asks and Gibbs is probably hard at work on his boat.

The blast of rock music that assaults his ears almost wakes him far too well.

"Abby?" he calls to the woman across the room, but he doubts his voice carries more that a few inches before being beaten down by the cacophony. However, the sight of her makes him reconsider his wanting the volume lowered.

She's wearing her traditional black, including an atypical choice of black high heel shoes rather than her boots. He's never seen her in high heeled shoes and indulges in a moment; several moments in fact. The high heels do make her very sexy legs look even longer before they peek under her skirt.

It's a very _very _short skirt, and her t-shirt fits her so snugly that he can see the smoothness of her back is unmarred by a bra. Her hips sway sensuously to a slow rhythm that has nothing to do with the sonic barrage. Watching her move, there's a long expanse of sexy legs between hem and high heels and he wishes he could caress every millimeter. As he watches her micro-skirt wag, he hopes for at least a tantalizing glimpse and decides he's not as tired as he thought he was.

x

But after a time, delightful as the bare legged show is, he has to get out of here and get home. He certainly can't stay the night with the lovely Goth girl, she's made that quite clear, but for the moment her bare legs and scarf-like micro skirt have sparked some very intense memories.

"Abby." This is ridiculous. "_ABBY_." Crossing the room, he puts his hand on her shoulder.

Her shriek can almost be heard. He sees too late she was holding a large glass beaker. She snatches for it, it slips past her fingers and shatters on the table top. She hops back, avoiding the spray of glass.

She snatches the white remote control to her left on the table top, kills the radio and in the sudden quiet her horrified whisper seems like a yell.

"Oh my God!" she breathes, staring at the spill.

"I'm sorry, Abby, I–"

"Get _out_."

"I'm sorry, I'll help you clean–"

She whirls on him, frightened rather than angry. "GET OUT OF HERE! _RUN_!"

x

He doesn't know or care what the danger is. He grabs her arm, yanks her toward the main door as klaxons sound throughout the lab. Every door closes as they skid to a halt. Neither needs to reach or test them to know they're locked. "Too late," she exclaims on the verge of panic.

"What's going _on_?"

"Contamination protocol, the Hepacor's airborne and we're sealed in!" She turns back to the shattered glass beaker on the dry table top.

"What Hepacor?" Tim asks, wondering at her distress. Wasn't that beaker half full?

"Exposed to air, it evaporates at 41 degrees."

Truly frightened, Tim can think of only one question: "Can it kill us?"

"It won't hurt you one bit."

He tries to pull back from the fear. "Then why the panic?"

"It can make you long for death," Abby assures him breathlessly.

He clutches her arm to rein in the rapid fire pronouncements that make him feel more scared. "Abby, _talk _to me. What is it?

"Hepacoramalinapolyplyninintritolayhermate. I was testing it for a case Bob DiMarco and his team are working on."

"Hepacoromanil..." he abandons the struggle.

"Just say Hepacor. By the time you get the whole thing right it'll have taken full effect."

"What is it? And can we get someone in to–?"

"No. No _way_! I can't break quarantine. We're exposed, it'll wear off in about six hours but there's no _way _I'm going to expose the entire building to it. We're safe ... relatively ... but if it gets out that would be so incredibly bad."

"But it won't hurt us?"

"No, not a bit."

x

Tim steps back, raises his hands imploringly. "Abby, stop. For just one minute pretend I don't have a degree in Forensic Chemistry and tell me in English what's going on."

Abby winds down several points. "Hepacor is an experimental drug that DiMarco, Lamb, Levy and DuBois confiscated when they raided a Lab. It's so illegal it's Tip Top Secret, the ones making it will get a hundred years each. It affects the brain, stimulating the hypothalamus, but it's like passing a high voltage sex charge through it."

She can't mean..."Wait a minute, are you trying to say its an aphrodisiac?"

"No, I'm not trying to say it, I _am _saying it."

"There's no such thing as an aphrodisiac."

Abby puts her hands on her shapely hips and glares at him. "Who's the Scientist here, you or me?"

"You are, of course; but an aphrodisiac - it's a wives' tale. Men have been searching for it for centuries."

"Yeah, well they found it, synthesized it and put it on steroids."

x

"And it can't be controlled?"

"That's why the government has restricted it. It's so Top Secret only a handful of people even know it exists. If it hadn't been stolen from a research lab I'd never even have it and _you _wouldn't have made me spill it."

"It's really that powerful?"

"Tim, if I open that door, nine months from now the Beta Shift of NCIS will have a baby boom the likes of which Masters and Johnson never conceived."

Tim can't quite bring himself to smile. "What do we do?"

"We wait it out. Evaporated Hepacor has a half-life of two hours. Within six it'll have degraded enough that it'll be safe to leave. I'm just not sure what condition _we'll_ be in."

"What do you mean? And why is it so _hot_?"

Abby glances at the dial on her wall thermometer. "First symptom - and it's 63 degrees in here."

"No it isn't," Tim insists, wiping perspiration from his forehead, "it's got to be over 80. Your thermometer's broken."

"I told you, that's the first symptom. You're going to be getting a lot hotter." She breathes deeply, runs her hands down the front of her black t-shirt, over her breasts. "I know I already am."

x

He can see her erect nipples poking through the clinging fabric and, following the direction of her hands, her long legs are starting to look exceptionally good.

"What do you mean?"

Abby's exasperation is volcanic. "Aphrodisiac. Man. _Woman_. Do I have to spell it out for you?"

"What do you - _Oh_! Oh, no. No no no no no. Forget it!"

"Matter of time, and I won't be _able _to forget it. Neither will you." She gasps, her hips pulling back as her muscles tense and her hand covers her crotch as though to protect it. "_Oh_! I can already feel it working."

"Wait - you mean we're…?"

"Uh huh."

"And we're…?"

Her hand presses move firmly to her vulva, her other to her breasts as she gasps in mounting passion. "Oh, this isn't... _Yeah_."

"No. No way. I mean you're great and all, but no way. I refuse to believe–"

"Believe what you _like_, Tim," she says, breathing deeply, a sheen of perspiration covering her forehead. She moans, her hands more firm upon her body.

"Will you stop that?"

"I _can't _stop it, Tim." She rubs herself under her skirt, moans in embarrassment and sensation and he knows the forces that press her are out of her control. She'd never behave like this. He's embarrassed for her but, looking at the way she's affected; he feels the arousal in himself as well. "Oh, gosh, I can't help... help…."

She leans back against the table and he can see she's trying to keep her hand pressed against her crotch from moving, but she strokes her heaving breasts, her hot gasps increasing in intensity.

x

Tim can't deny the drug - and Abby - are having a powerful effect on him. He wants her, _needs _this aroused woman. She's panting, can't stop touching herself, her face reddening with more than shame. Her every sensuous move tears at him.

He wants to touch himself too. He clenches his fists, fights with pain. But watching her hardens him despite his efforts. He's getting too big for his pants and he's not even touching, not even being touched. Her gasps, moans, her hot movements, it takes everything he has to keep his hand from going to–

She reaches for him, her hand coming from her crotch to his and the touch is explosive. She squeezes him, her hand strokes firmly, squeezes rythmicly and he can't fight anymore.

x

He pulls her body against his, her flesh through the tee shirt and micro-mini hot and getting hotter. Their mouths meet, their fiery kiss almost too hot to bear. His hands cup her ass, press her vulva to him. She moves her hips, strokes him with her crotch, rubs herself against his hardening shaft until it feels like he's inside her already.

Her scorching tongue licks deep as their kiss increases in passion. She's moaning into his mouth as their tongues lick and duel and she clutches his ass too, holds tight so she can rub more firmly against him. Her full, firm breasts press to his chest and he wants to rip her shirt apart, get his hands, his mouth on her full firm mounds.

He tugs at her t-shirt, yanks it free of her skirt and she moves back just far enough and raises her arms high so he can rip the material from her and throw it aside.

Her breasts are gorgeous, full and firm with greater need, her hard nipples spiked erotically and he strokes her, rips a gasping groan from her. He cups her hot breasts, closes his hands firmly about her and she nearly sobs.

"Ohh - suck me. _Suck me please_."

She leans back over the table and he goes to her left breast, sucks firmly at her hard spiked nipple and she groans. If she says anything he can't make it out. His hand molds her right breast and his right hand works between them, under her skirt and she nearly screams when his fingers press her wet panties into her soft labia.

She clutches him with one hand, her other clamps over her mouth barely in time to contain a scream as he sucks and licks her left nipple, his left hand squeezes her right breast gently as he feels her hot cream flood over his fingers. She squeezes his hard shaft more firmly, strokes up and down and he sucks harder, rips another scream past her hand. Her legs tighten about his hand and hotter cream flows through her panties, over his hand to drip, barely heard, to the floor between her feet.

x

She straightens off the table and her hands attack his belt, almost yank him aside as she pulls the belt loose, grabs the material rather than his zipper, rips everything aside and shoves his pants off his hips.

She lets the destroyed trousers drop and reaches into her own panties, coats her fingers with her boiling juices, pulls his shorts forward and dives in to take him. She closes her wet fingers about him, continues to stroke bare wet flesh to wet flesh.

He doesn't bother with her skirt, his hands can't work the seals be they buttons or whatever. He grabs the waistband of her panties with both fists, pulls as hard as he can and the material snaps. As crazed, she grabs his shirt with both hands and rips. Buttons fly everywhere as she grabs his tee shirt, digs her nails through the material and rips it apart as he pushes what's left of her panties down her other leg.

x

Their lips meet, lock in fiery contest and he pulls her from the table and presses her toward the floor. He lays her down, only her micro-skirt in the way and he throws it upward as she arches her hips to him, gasps with every move. He takes her knees, brushes aside her destroyed panties and spreads her as she reaches for him, uses the fragment of his shirt to pull him down.

She's shaved smooth, her vagina wet and red and he bends his head to her, kisses her wet lips, sucks her clitoris between his lips and she cries out. She raises her hips more to him. She curls her fingers into his hair, pulls him closer as he sucks her clitoris. She's groaning, her panting breath loud as she thrashes about, bucks into his mouth as her cries rise. She presses him down, his mouth to her broiling lips and he licks deep, probes his tongue into her cooking flesh.

He reaches up to her firm breasts, catches her full handfuls of lust as she writhes about almost too wildly for him to contain. Guided by her moans and cries, he licks deeply into her, alternates this with soft then firm licks over her clitoris.

Her hips buck her vagina into his face and, as her cries rise in stress and volume he works faster, deeper until she's thrashing about on the floor. He can barely manage to hold her under him.

She shrieks at the same instant boiling cream covers his face and he drinks her nectar as fast as she can give it. Her cream burns his mouth and coats his throat, she's almost too hot to endure but he laps in her delightful juice.

x

Her hands no longer clutch his hair and she bucks wildly under his hands molding her heaving breasts as shrieks rip through the lab, barely muffled by her clamped hands.

It goes on forever until she collapses, spent and breathless. Her legs fall open but still her crotch twitches under his mouth and her hips shift upward to him in undiminished need.

He moves up, climbs above her body and when they kiss, her juices covering his mouth, she reaches down and grasps him, her fingers softer than he'd expected yet firm in need.

x

Her trembling hand guides him. She opens wider, moans at the first touch and she arcs further, bucks into him and feels him push the first inch of himself into her. He pushes harder, harder.

"So _tight_!"

"The best things take _WORK_!" She shrieks as he fills her completely, almost more than she can take and the scream dies for lack of air. She grips his shoulders, digs her nails deep as he draws almost out and impales her deeper, harder, grinds his pelvis into her clitoris...

ooooo

When they can't move, completely exhausted, Abby can barely force her eyes toward the clock on the wall. 00:20 - nearly _three hours _and she's not sure she'll ever move again. Tim has fallen off her body to crash beside her, only his panting - and hers - proving any part of their bodies can work.

She's had it every way, standing up, riding, face down on the floor, bent 69 with her mouth around him and he filling her throat as he licked and sucked her, standing bent forward over her table, screaming as he filled her until she couldn't tell if it hurt or not.

She feels utterly raw, worn and limp, so much so that even thinking of closing her legs is too much of a chore.

"Is it over?" he sighs. He doesn't sound like he'll be able to whisper another word.

"Is what over?" Her voice is raw from screaming.

"The Hepacor."

"The what?"

He turns his head slowly to her. "The Hepacor."

"Oh. That." She forces a slow smile, the best she can manage. "You really believed that."

It takes effort but he manages to lift his head an inch. "_What_?"

"Hepacor - ply her - try to lay her, mate?" She smiles broadly but tiredly. "You actually bought that."

He struggles to turn his body toward her. "You mean all that was a–?"

She pushes at his body, presses him onto his back and forces herself to climb him, but down his body. He's still half hard and at the sight she feels renewed strength and hunger, and her now-not-so-completely-worn vagina clenches.

The hunger for more, the need to make the past three hours merely foreplay, makes her labia, her whole depth twitch as she opens her mouth.

Their combined taste is ambrosia as she takes his length in, licks and sucks and feels him start to harden again as he moans under her.

Kneeling bent over him, she feels his hand slip up her inner thigh and moves her knee, spreads wider, welcomes his probing fingers opening her soft lips. As he firms in her mouth his fingers slip into her and she groans about him.

The Lab's still on lockdown, everyone knows she doesn't work weekends and Monday is so many hours away.


End file.
